Twin Ambitions
by SeascapeMural
Summary: "Do not hesitate when disposing of the enemy. Pity and honor are for the weak, Starscream." It was simply too bad he hadn't taken this advice to heart when it came to dealing with Megatron himself. But then again, nobody's perfect. - After 'Triangulation'.
1. Temptations

1. Temptations

The cold of the water seeped into his metal plating, despite the armor encasing him. He had been down here forever, roving the ocean floor. At least it seemed that way.

He was beginning to feel weak, the effects of lacking a daily supply of energon catching up with him. Surely, if he wandered long enough, he would happen across a cache of the blue life-force. If he recalled correctly, most of this Primus-forsaken planet was composed of water, so it led to reason that more energon could be found under the seas than on the land.

But even if he discovered any hidden energon, he would have no way to consume it. The weight of the water pressing down upon him would definitely crush his wings if he removed the armor, and he couldn't bear the idea of his precious, beautiful wings being damaged beyond repair. They were the singularity he had purposely kept out of Megatron's reach when the larger mech felt the urge to vent his rage on the Seeker.

He glanced around, a hollow feeling entering his chassis. The ice, far above his armor-plated frame, was a faded blue in the darkness, and he wished he could somehow send himself to the surface. _If I had my t-cog_, he thought for what was possibly the hundred-thousandth time. But it was futile; there was no way he would make it even if he could shift his form into something more easily maneuverable.

How long had he been here? Mere kliks? A solar cycle? Several? Even with his internal chronometer, there was a hazy quality to the passage of time. It seemed to have no meaning, and yet he had to remain optimistic that he would endure, despite the resolute coding in his processor to remain a realist. There was no one he could contact for help, no one who could be relied upon to get him out of this monotony that had become his world. He almost laughed at the idea of contacting Megatron. The Decepticon leader would surely welcome the Seeker, but only long enough for him to remove the heavy plating before the gladiator-turned-tyrant ripped his spark from deep within his small figure.

Frustration began to boil in his remaining energon. He may not be a very patient bot, but the Seeker was starting to feel a tinge of desperation. If he didn't find sustenance soon...

His thoughts shifted, refusing to face the eventuality of life without energon. Instead, he focused on the Apex armor. Although he appreciated its protection, he couldn't help but long to see his slim, deadly digits and walk upon his high-heeled thrusters. His wings were pressed as close to his body as physically possible, the lack of space for them making him feel a tinge of claustrophobia. And, whether from the water, his new size, or lack of energy, the Seeker found that his movements were sluggish, despite how hard he pushed himself...

His optics had begun to flicker on and off several breems ago, such was his exhaustion. His last recharge period had been several cycles past, and it was thus that he did not notice the lightening of the water around him. It had gone from a deep black to a cobalt blue, reflecting the proximity to the surface.

Red-and-white optics onlined in shock when he felt his center of gravity shift, drawing him temptingly to return to the depths of the ocean. It was almost like a song, he thought. The way his heavy, metallic body felt a longing to simply follow the way of the land, deeper and deeper until even the Apex armor could not protect him. The thought of no longer having to struggle blindly about himself. Of not needing anyone else to survive. Because he wouldn't be surviving. He would be a form of metal, surrendering to a will greater than his own that told him he was _nothing_, that he should simply die, that he was selfish to think his spark was worth more that of a simple vehicon.

Still, his peds dragged him forward, seemingly immune to the temptation that taunted him continuously. Perhaps he had a stronger will than he thought, but it more likely that his systems were moving in a state of repetition, traveling forward despite the fact that he had forgotten to tell them to long ago.

The protective glass before his faceplate broke through the rolling waves of the sea, and he shuttered his optics at the sudden brightness of the planet's sun. He followed the tide as it struck rocks and a flat stretch of land. A beach, his processors told him helpfully as the water receded from the shore, dragging feebly at the Seeker. His pedsteps were heavy as he came closer to getting out of the wretched waste of wetness, the salty liquid expelling itself from every joint and crevasse of the restrictive equipment he wore.

Granules of sand clumped together in his protective plating as he fell to the ground, now just barely out the water's reach. The armor seemed to sense his safety, or maybe it was just as tired as he was, as it retreated back into its original shape and fell with a muffled thud, leaving the Seeker's true form exposed. The Seeker twitched his wings experimentally, feeling a soft, damp breeze tickle his sensors, before he groaned faintly, tasting mounds of wet grittiness on his glossa as his helm and chassis made contact with the earth.

Venting fresh air appreciatively, the Seeker made a cumbrous spectacle of himself as he rose to his thrusters, tilting about wildly as he wrapped a claw-tipped servo around the now-mobile armor. He searched his person haphazardly, glad that Dreadwing hadn't thought to do so before affixing stasis cuffs to the small Seeker's wrist-joints, as he at last pulled out his remote control to the ground-bridge.

His servo prodded the device for a few clumsy kliks before the a glowing green-and-blue vortex opened up before him. He cycled air into an alleviated sigh as he stepped through to the _Harbringer_, contemplating what he would do next. Replace his missing t-cog? Use the ground-bridge to find more energon? He pushed those ideas aside for later, instead focusing on the one thing his CPU and physical form seemed to agree upon: going into recharge.

x-x-x

"_Starscream..." The voice was loud in the hush, but the Seeker knew it was spoken at a whisper. He glanced up from his work, looking for the source. His red optics searched the shadows, suspicious. 'This better not be another vehicon with a_nother_ trivial question,' he thought, but his gaze found nothing out of the ordinary. With one last glance around, he shrugged and returned to the screen before his faceplate._

"_Staaarscream," the voice called in a sing-song fashion, closer this time, and he stood quickly, glaring around into the darkness. Once more, he could see nothing._

"_Who's there," he snarled, his statement breaking the silence as he collected his things and huffed, determined not to let some idiot make a fool out of him. When there was no response, he grumbled under a vent of air and began to return to his personal chambers, following the familiar pathways of the Nemesis with a practiced ease. His thrusters clicked against the metal floor, the only sound his audios could decipher. Perhaps his processor was a little scrambled from going so long without recharge..._

_He felt the ghost of a dactyl trail up his spinal plating, and he yelped, hopping forward in an undignified fashion as he whirled to spot whoever was bothering him. Again, there was nothing, and he vented heavily in irritation._

_He turned back around reluctantly, wings twitching, only to be faced with the cold steel-gray plating of Megatron's chassis directly in front of him. He jumped a second time, much to the other mech's pleasure. A low laugh rumbled out of the Commander's vocalizer as he stared down at his SIC. "Up late, Starscream?" he said, amusement still tingeing his vox._

_The Seeker hesitated an instant, wondering how the larger mech had gotten there without him noticing, before uttering a reply. "Yes, completing tasks as you commanded, Lord Megatron." He glanced away in false reverence in hopes of appeasing the tyrant._

_Megatron let out a humming noise that made his plating vibrate gratingly against itself, looking not at all placated as he circled Starscream. "I hope you know what risks you run, wandering the ship alone at night, dear Second," he said, watching the Seeker spin to follow his movements._

"_And what would those be?" Starscream asked wearily, taking a few steps closer to his recharge chamber – and away from Megatron._

_Instead of retreating, the jet found himself pinned between the wall and the violet emblem of the Decepticons. His optics swirled groggily, trying to understand how the Lord Commander had moved so fast, and eventually focused on the glow of his liege lord's purple ones. Just as swiftly, he was released, and his small figure slid down the wall with a faint groan. He raised a clawed appendage to his helm and glared up at his master uncomprehendingly._

"_Who knows, someone might just decide that you make an easy target," Megatron commented, his large form receding down the hall as if he had never been there to begin with._

_'What was that about?' Starscream wondered. He rose to his peds and continued on his way, attempting to decipher the meaning behind Megatron's actions... Perhaps it was a doctrine his master wished to impose upon him, although Starscream knew it was more likely a warning. He supposed he would just have to wait and see what his next encounter with the ex-gladiator held._

_In the mean time, he was perfectly content to pretend the encounter had never happened._

x-x-x

Thinking about Megatron wasn't usually the best of ideas for the Seeker. It left him feeling an array of emotions, the majority of which he supposed were typical for his situation. But there were a few he didn't quite understand, and those were the ones he longed to forget...

Instead, his processor jumped to thoughts of the new second-in-command. Dreadwing. The new second-in-command seemed rather naïve to the way of the Decepticons. Or at least he did things differently than the Seeker. If their positions were reversed, he supposed he would have terminated the larger flier.

Instead, the blue-and-yellow bot had imprisoned Starscream with the stifling stasis cuffs. The Seeker was obviously not a threat; he couldn't even shift a finger into any type of weapon. Although the cuffs certainly made him more submissive, he wasn't exactly compliant towards those who had placed them upon his person. And then Dreadwing had the nerve to place the Seeker under the care of the vehicons! The gesture was terribly insulting, and he resented the bulkier flier for it. True, he wasn't capable of resisting even those pitiable, identical Decepticons, but Megatron's new favorite didn't have to rub it in...

And that was only Dreadwing's second mistake.

His first was allowing the Seeker to live.

x-x-x

_The high-pitched whine of an activated fusion cannon sounded in his audio, and he turned to face it, freezing when his optics registered the sight of the huge, purple weapon mere inches from his faceplate. His fluttering spark and red-tinged optics were the only parts of him that moved as he shifted his gaze to that of his sovereign._

_Beyond the commanding sight of the cannon, Megatron's brow-plates were drawn in consideration as he examined the young Seeker. His facial plating held no malice, and his body as a whole was relaxed. He had no reason to be angry with his recently-appointed second-in-command, for Starscream had completed all tasks that his master had required. So why was Megatron pointing his weapon at the Seeker?_

"_Do not hesitate when disposing of the enemy. Pity and honor are for the weak, Starscream." The Decepticon Leader withdrew his servo, helm tilted to one side as he watched the Seeker absorb this new lesson._

"_Yes, Master," the flier replied, relief making his intakes release a heavy huff of air before he bowed respectfully. The larger mech saw understanding flicker in the smaller's optics, and he could almost hear Starscream's processors whirring at the possibilities. "The Autobots would never stoop to something so low," he said, glancing at his leader with a calculating smile._

It was simply too bad he hadn't taken this advice to heart when it came to dealing with Megatron himself. But then again, nobody's perfect.

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**

**I know I said on my profile that my computer with my written files basically crashed, but luckily I sent this to a friend to beta for me before that happened.**

**ANYWAYS. I am going to continue this, as soon as I figure out how to get the beginning of the second chapter off my BSOD'd computer.**

**Please review! :3**

**-SeascapeMural**


	2. Favor

2. Favor

Subsequent to awakening from recharge, the Seeker's systems politely informed him that obtaining energon would be extremely beneficial to his bodily functions, thank you!

He emitted a groan, quickly deciding he was far too low on fuel to even contemplate surgically replacing his t-cog this cycle. Despite the fact that it would make his searchings go more quickly, flight would simply have to wait.

The Seeker spent much of the solar cycle using the ground-bridge to wander between stripped Decepticon mines. He discovered only a few blue crystals here and there, but he ate them ravenously, ignoring all warnings of what damage the unrefined life-source could cause to his systems. Even with these tidbits, his fuel tank remained a very firm empty, and his plating moaned with displeasure.

It was only very late into the night cycle that he remembered something deliciously useful.

On a rare stroke of good fortune, he recalled a particular energon deposit that he had been unable to report to Soundwave. He had spotted it while on an odd joy-flight, the finding conveniently slipping his mind when he returned to the Nemesis in time for one of Megatron's legendary rebuttals. To the Seeker's delight, no one else had happened to notice it since his 'forgotten' visit.

He spent the rest of the time until the Earth's sun peeked over the horizon to cut loose his prize from the rocks and bring the highly-explosive ore back to his retreat, using scientifically-advanced tools he had detected upon frequent searches of the _Harbringer_ to help him accomplish his task. By the time he decided to settle down for recharge, he had a very well-stocked cache that, if rationed correctly, would last him well into the stellar cycle.

x-x-x

_Starscream flicked his wings in displeasure, watching as his master critiqued his plan. 'More like destroys it,' he thought, glaring daggers at the back of Megatron's helm. It was well thought-out, required little effort on either of their parts, and stood to reason would succeed. He couldn't understand why the Decepticon leader had to put his grubby claws all over it._

_Megatron complained that he wouldn't have enough action, that without participating in the fighting himself, how was he to show his faction he was better than the fools who commanded the Autobot Senate? The Seeker didn't see why it mattered; with his plan they would win, and nothing else seemed to clarify demolishing his work. His previous accomplishments proved how well his strategies worked, and he had spent _joors _making it just so…._

_He could see very clearly how the battle would go. Due to his master's intervention, they would lose spectacularly. All blame, no doubt, would fall on the Seeker's shoulder plating, despite how resolutely it was Megatron's fault. He would be beaten within an inch of his life, sent to Knock Out for medical assistance, and then forced back into the cycle over and over again. _

_Starscream wasn't too far off – the only difference between his imagined reality and actual events was the medic whose care he received. His squadron had lost so badly that the Seeker knew Megatron had to be considering choosing a different second-in-command. But he did not. Instead, with all the repetitive failures Starscream came to endure, he somehow (or perhaps inevitably) became the ex-gladiator's personal frustration-relieving chew-toy. He was never so far away that the Decepticon leader couldn't yell his name in anger and he would not respond, his thrusters dragging against the metal of the floor, his plating clicking spastically as he shivered with tension and shamed fear._

_It was a great relief when the Cybertronian warship decided he should look to the stars for more loyal warriors, and for the first time in vorns the Seeker was able to relax, his mental processors able to function at full capacity without being inhibited by the trepidation of Megatron's presence. Things were better, simpler, during those cycles, and he found himself enjoying the post of SIC without the first around._

_As usual, Megatron had to come and ruin everything._

x-x-x

The operation required more energon than he had originally anticipated.

His pain receptors had gone overboard, competing with the remembered pains of the deaths of his clones and the beatings from his former master. But he somehow found it more bearable to inflict it upon himself rather than be given it. Perhaps this was because he knew its purpose, knew the reasoning behind his tormentor's actions, knew he wasn't at the receiving end of some unjust punishment.

By the end of the surgery, he had replaced five large mid-grade-cubes-worth of energon in his systems, but he was functional. He felt physically and mentally drained… Yet he was now capable of flight. This benefit was worth every single drawback he had encountered since parting ways with those vile fleshbags who dubbed themselves MECH.

His first test was to be conducted in the open, a recently-refined blue cube on hand in case anything went wrong, along with the remote to the ground-bridge. He lifted a servo, staring at it apprehensively before clenching his claws into a determined fist and holding his appendage away from his chassis. He was almost afraid to watch, in case it didn't work, but he forced his optics to remain unshuttered as he commanded his limb to change from its usual talon-like appearance to a red-tipped cannon.

A spike of pain lanced through his frame, and he clutched his other servo to his chassis, optics nearly completely shuttered. And then it was gone, and his mind was free to examine, and rejoice over, the weapon that had replaced his thin digits.

The Seeker felt a grin begin to dance upon his faceplate, and he let out a low chuckle of glee. Raising his slender arm once more, he pointed it at the first thing had caught his attention, and fired.

Delight cascaded through his systems at the pile of rubble and pillar of smoke rising from the debris, and he itched with the urge to fly. The air whispering beneath his wings, dividing before him in his aerial majesty, was nearly too much of a temptation to resist. However, a very resolute part of his processor told him it was too soon. The t-cog, although obviously functional, had been damaged during its removal from his clone's body, and was thus not exactly the greatest of ideas to push it to its limits. He was reminded of this as another wave of pain corresponded with returning his servo back to its original form.

Flying would have to wait for tomorrow.

x-x-x

_Starscream stared dispassionately at the pile of scrap at his peds, and he kicked away a dying circuit in disgust. The thrill of making a kill was extremely satisfying, but the mess afterwards left him with a hollow feeling in his spark chamber. _

_He turned away, content to let someone else deal with the remains, to see the large form of the leader of the Decepticons several arns away. The large purple-and-silvered mech gave a small nod of approval, and the Seeker felt a small smile tug at his mouthplates. _

_The small flier had joined the Decepticons only diuns before, and his presence was making a large impact in the upper ranks. He was the perfect example of a Seeker – sleek, elegant, graceful, and extremely quick. And he held an intelligence that allowed him more maneuverability on the battlefield. Starscream could tell he had caught the elusive attention of Megatron, and he planned to use that to his every advantage._

_The small Seeker returned to his position amongst the ranks of his fellow Decepticons and attempted to mimic their mindless, focused gaze. However, he could not stop the minute jerkings of his wings, and when he felt the tapping of a digit against his shoulder plating, he startled badly, sure he was about to be reprimanded. Instead, his fearful glance was met with the blank visor of a light-blue flier. Soundwave._

"_Lord 'Megatron would like designation Starscream to join him immediately,'" the superior officer quoted, Megatron's voice echoing out of his vocals with metallic accuracy. The rail-thin bot pointed a slim finger in the general direction of their leader as the Seeker stared at him incomprehensively. _

_Why would someone so important want a mech like Starscream, a lowly soldier with a vague scientific background, to speak with him? Sure, he had been just been thinking of how he might one day become one of Megatron's inner circle, but that was just a daydream. Things like that didn't just become reality…. Even though his seemed to be._

_Despite his obvious confusion, the Seeker followed Soundwave, determined to make a good impression. His wings were held high, his personal pride reflected in his actions, and upon arrival before the ex-gladiator, he bowed low, sweeping a servo beneath his chassis to genuflect as gracefully as possible, hoping that respect for the large mech before him emanated from his very vents. "How may I be of service, Lord Megatron?" he asked, his voice purring softly._

_Megatron stared down at the Seeker's small frame for several breems, a thoughtful countenance upon his visage. "You may rise, Starscream," he said at last, and the smaller mech rose to his full stature, miniscule as that was. He was nearly half Megatron's height, but the ex-gladiator knew better than to underestimate those smaller than him. He could see himself molding this little flier into someone that would be extremely useful to his cause. Who knew, perhaps he would one day name the Seeker his Air Commander. Starscream would have to earn the position, but nevertheless… "Tell me, how would you like the position of second-in-command?"_

* * *

**Hello once again, my darlings! :3.**

**I would like to thank Smile-I'mTheEndOfAllThatYouSee, lost frequencies, 9aza, thepopetti, and svan29 for their support. And if I could hug you all, I definitely would, XD.**

**In case of confusion, the last part is NOT Megatron offering the position of SIC to Starscream. He just wants to see what the Seeker will do to earn it.**

**Next chapter should involve other mechs in the 'present-time' sections. I hope you enjoyed this one, and please review!**

**-SeascapeMural**


	3. Distress

3. Distress

Wind whispered through his audios, caressing his thin frame. He leaned into it, welcoming the feel of a draft against his wings after so long spent avoiding it.

The Seeker stood at the top of a small cliff, optics shuttered in his moment of pleasure. If he were to look down, he would have discerned the telltale signs of the beginnings of a creek, winding its way between the rocks below. The sky above was clear and perfectly blue, a common occurrence in this part of the world, and the air was swift, flirting with his sensors. And he so longed to join it.

He wanted to jump, to gracefully dive before making his transformation, wings locking into pace with practiced ease. But he was afraid, and that was the only thing that prevented him from reuniting with the sky.

He was afraid of the pain, and the memories that came with it. Of the beatings from his lord and master. Of tortures, both real and imagined, that lurked within his subconscious.

The Seeker backed up several paces, anticipation making his spark flicker wildly, before he ran and vaulted through the air, appendages spread wide. He didn't wait for gravity to tug at his body, urging the change to happen much sooner than he would have diuns before. An aching immediately spread from his chassis to the tips of his wings, but it wasn't as bad as he had expected. Within kliks, he was a jet, soaring, spinning, whirling, gliding.

And laughing. It had been so long since he had last laughed out of his own personal joy, rather than the pain of others. The unusually cheerful noise coming from his audials scared him for an astrosecond, but he recovered, letting the sound fill his whole frame as he flew.

Beneath him, the land turned from rocky but forested to dry and lifeless, busy human roads standing out in sharp contrast to the dull, barren land. But even these signs of life soon became few and far between, leaving only him, the earth below, whatever meager creatures were hiding there, and the great vastness of the sky. Ignoring this, he streaked through the few clouds that gathered before him, leaving faint contrails in his wake.

After spending so long grounded, he was almost shocked at the distance he had traveled in such a short time. With the earth beneath his peds, he was a nothing, someone who didn't belong, who was pressured by those who presumed them better than he that he must stay with them, on the ground, where he was most useless. Where he was trapped. But not now. No longer was he to be compared to a trapped, caged organic, or even a ground-pounder, tethered to an object larger than himself without the use of his wings. He could fly, Primus damn it.

He felt _free._

Presently, the Seeker became aware of a warning from his CPU, telling him that, once more, he was running short on energon. He had forgotten how much flight cost him; being a flier, and the faster frame type of a Seeker, meant that while being flight-capable, he had to consume nearly twice the amount of energon of grounded mechs. Having overlooked this factor, and in an admittedly futile attempt to ration the energon he now possessed, his fuel tank upon starting this session had been much closer to empty than full.

Dread began to plague his systems as he realized he had flown too far from the Harbringer to return the way he had come. He would have to land and use the ground-bridge, and he found he wasn't looking forward to his thrusters touching down on the dry, cracked landscape of the area fleshbags called Nevada.

He transformed, already mentally preparing for the graceful landings he had enjoyed in the past. But something was terribly wrong. The pain that before had been dulled and surprisingly subdued reared its ugly head, sending waves of agony coursing through his body, and he felt himself falling.

His optics had automatically offlined, and his instinctual thrashings in response to his sufferings had made him go from aerodynamically coming to a halt to spinning uncontrollably. It was thus that he did not have time to correct his descent, and his helm struck the earth first, the momentum carrying his frame even further. He felt the repeated impacts jar through his frame, several forcing him to rebound roughly against his delicate wings, until he came to rest with his faceplate in the dirt, his plating screeching as it continued to slide backwards against the ground.

System failures and alerts ravaged his processor, and he felt that stasis lock was imminent. Onlining his optics, he hoped he was far enough from humanity to die in peace, but his misfortune held firm; several arns away curved a human road. His sight began to flicker, and he only caught fading glimpses of a vehicle slowing as it passed his form.

The last thing he heard before entering stasis lock was the idling of an engine and an incredulous voice calling out to him. "Starscream?"

x-x-x

_Gentle talons stroked his wings, expertly maneuvering between the joints and onto the receptors in an attempt to calm him. "We won't be gone long, Screamer, I promise."_

"_Yeah," said a black and purple ball of hyper energy. "Before you know it, your recharge chamber will be covered in oil, courtesy of _moi_, of course." The other Seeker sent Starscream a mischievous look, not one that he found particularly reassuring._

"_Skywarp," he growled, his voice containing a mild threat. "If you do that again, there won't _be_ a recharge chamber for you to return to." He flicked an irritated glance over his shoulder plating at the blue mech behind him. "Besides, I'm not concerned about how soon you will return. It's only been a few joors since you two got back from your last mission. Shouldn't you have earned some rest?"_

"_I'm sure Megatron has his reasons," replied the blue Seeker, pausing in his ministrations to send Skywarp a warning glare._

_The silver mech flicked his wings up and down in exasperation, accidentally removing them from the other's grip. "I don't like it, Thundercracker. He keeps on making excuses to keep me away from you." 'Like he's hoping the trine bond will disintegrate,' Starscream thought, optics narrowing at the idea._

_The very suggestion was absurd, and it didn't take an idiot to tell him that. The bond was unbreakable; he would always be able to feel the other two members of his trine, their sparks pulsing in time with his. But it was true that he hadn't felt as connected as usual, that he felt a certain distance between himself and his trinemates._

_He pushed these foolish notions from his processor, instead focusing on the present. "Go. As you said, you'll be back soon."_

_Thundercracker sent Skywarp a worried glance, but they both nodded, giving their trine leader parting touches and words of farewell before exiting the Nemesis._

_The image of his winged brethren, walking slowly away from him, Skywarp prodding the other Seeker's side and Thundercracker giggling at the combination of whatever the purple fool had said plus the pokes layering his plating, was the last memory Starscream had of the two mechs. The next cycle, Megatron had informed him of their passing. And Starscream, feeling emptiness on his end bond, was not in a position to disagree._

_If only he'd known of the lies wrapping themselves tightly around his neck cables, as if to strangle him with their untruths._

x-x-x

He became aware of his surroundings so excruciatingly slowly, and he did have to wonder if his spark had been extinguished by his own stupidity. Was he in some blasphemous corner of the Pit? There was plenty of pain to accompany that theory, but he suspected that was more from his recent tumble than the agonies a spark would be subjected to in the Pits.

No, he reflected, listening with his recently-onlined audios, he could not yet have journeyed to the Inferno. There was the sound of an older, irritated mech muttering under his breath close to the Seeker's prone form, and then the loud voices of several others arguing. About him, it seemed, and he knew he should have been pleased at the thought.

Instead, he just felt a general confusion, his processors straining to figure out how he had gone from entering stasis lock in the middle of a desert for all of the planet's inhabitants to see to being somewhere far away from air currents and the sun warming his plating. In fact, the air he was cycling felt used and almost stuffy, but he wasn't about to complain. It beat the alternative: not existing, becoming subject to the force of the elements and the destructive will of fleshlings. He shuddered at the thought of the organics touching his fragile wings with their disgusting paws.

Faint recognition for the speakers triggered in his memory banks, but he couldn't quite seem to place them. He could perceive no other alternative, so he cautiously onlined his optics, attempting to set them to their lowest strength. However, the action did not go unnoticed, and before he could even register what he was seeing, the grouchy mech at his side called out, "He's coming around," muttering something undoubtedly rude under the hiss of a vent of air.

The Seeker was no longer lying sprawled on his chassis; instead, he felt the dull pressure of his own weight against his aching wings, and his optics were able to pick out a high ceiling, most likely constructed out of some type of Earth mineral. Still reeling with bewilderment and a very distinct processor ache, he couldn't seem to make the connection between where he was and how he'd gotten there until he saw the outline of one of the last mechs he had wanted to see while in this state, especially considering their last encounter: Optimus Prime.

He let out a loud shriek, immediately attempting to back away from the red and blue bot, wincing away as if the sight caused him physical pain. Only he wasn't moving – his appendages were locked into place on some type of berth, and all he ended up looking like was some sort of convulsively twitching scrap of metal.

At least the Decepticons hadn't tied him down when he was in their care, he found himself thinking, although that was more so Megatron could torture the Seeker as he saw fit. Perhaps it was so he couldn't harm the Autobots, but his automatic assumptions, based on his previous lifestyle, were hard to discard.

So this was how he was going to die. At the hands of the Prime, who no doubt wanted the relic the Seeker had managed to hoodwink away. He could see exactly how this would go: first false reassurances, then torture, and when he finally gave in, the extinguishing of his spark. The words '_Primus save me_' flitted through his processor before panic consumed him, and he unseeingly thrashed against his bonds, causing himself more bodily harm that he was too far gone to feel.

"Sedate him, now!" he heard the deep voice of the Prime say, which only served to increase his distress.

_'Let me go, let me go, let me go, LET ME GO,'_ he mentally screamed, optics spinning, only catching random flashes of images before they offlined completely. Outside himself, he could hear a piercing shrieking that seemed to torment his audios, and he had no doubt that this sound was his own voice. In a matter of kliks, his own actions and terrified manner caused him to fall back into stasis lock far before Ratchet could do anything likewise effective, and he almost found it a relief not to be conscious. At least then he wouldn't have to deal with these wretched Autobots.

* * *

**Thank you all so much for reading!**

**A definite thanks to Victoria-Blackheart, Smile-I'mTheEndOfAllThatYouSee, sakiko soleana, Indigo Ninja, grayorca, and Hallovveenndragon. :3**

**I know, I didn't do a second flashback, like I did in the previous chapters. Didn't feel right, though.**

**Let me know what you all think! Suggestions, comments, concerns? I'd like to hear them! Please review!**

**-SeascapeMural**


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